Raising Cain
by JenniferJF
Summary: Spoilers through series 6.  Because a decade is a long time to do nothing but plot murder and exchange lectures. Mels's relationship with Amy and Rory and their relationship with each other and references to others as well.
1. Girl Talk

She should have seen the trap coming and been more prepared. Only it wasn't the sort of thing she ever really thought about so she hadn't really even considered having to answer it now.

Or, at least, not until Lucy was actually turning to her and asking, "What about you, Mels?" and all the other girls in the circle were looking at her, expecting an answer.

"Me?" she managed to ask, trying to buy some time.

"Yes. You," Lucy replied. "Who would you kiss?"

She could tell the others were growing impatient so she said the first name that popped into her head.

Lucy rolled her eyes, and the other girls groaned. "No. It has to be a _real _person, stupid. One of the boys at school...?"

Mels hated it when Lucy talked like that. As if she thought Mels really _was_ stupid. She narrowed her eyes at the other girl. Sometimes, she wished she didn't have to wait and hide and pretend. Sometimes, she wished she could just...

And why on Earth had she said that, anyway? Sometimes she really _could _be stupid. She wasn't going to _kiss_ the Doctor. She didn't even want to. Not really. She wasn't going kiss him. She was going to...

Besides, Amy'd said he wasn't _really_ hot. Those were just stupid dreams. Now, if he'd been funny _and_ hot... But just funny?

No way.

"Well, I know who I'd kiss," Amy spoke quickly from where she sat cross-legged on the rug next to Mels.

"Not your imaginary friend, too? Lucy asked.

This time it was Amy's turn to roll her eyes. "No. _Stupid_. I mean a real boy."

"Rory?" Mels guessed.

Amy giggled. "Rory? Really?"

"She said a real boy, Mels," Lucy added, and all the other girls laughed.

"What's wrong with Rory?" Mels asked.

"Nothing. Just... No. Not Rory," Amy answered definitively.

"Then who?" Chloe stopped giggling long enough to ask from across the circle.

"Jeff."

"Jeff?" Lucy asked in disbelief. "I said I was gonna kiss Jeff."

Despite herself, and despite Amy's warning glare, Mels couldn't help but laugh at this. Sometimes, she could see things. She didn't know how or why, but it was like everything sort of opened up in front of her and she just _knew_. And Jeff and Lucy?

She giggled again. She couldn't help herself.

"What's so funny?" Lucy snapped.

"Nothing," Mels managed to say. "I think that's great. Good choice, Lucy. I think you'll make a great couple." Couple of what Mels wasn't about to say. Not with the way Lucy was looking at her.

Only she clearly wasn't convincing enough. "Well..." Lucy began, and Mels knew she was in trouble simply by Amy's sympathetic glance. "At least I'm not _stupid_ enough to have a crush on someone else's imaginary friend, now. Am I?"

"Lucy..." Amy warned, but the other girls were already laughing.

And she _knew_ it was stupid to let it bother her. It's not like any of this even mattered, anyway. Not like any of _them_ even mattered.

They were just stupid little girls living stupid little lives in a stupid little English village in the middle of stupid nowhere.

And yet, somehow, it always did.

"Don't worry about it, Amy," Mels said, laying an arm on her friend as she felt her tense next to her. "I have to use the toilet, anyway." She glared around the circle. "This is a stupid game, anyway," she added.

As a parting shot, it left a lot to be desired, but she didn't care.

She needed to get out of there before someone noticed the tears in her eyes.

Because girls like her – _people_ like her – whatever that was...

Certainly never cried.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Amy looked toward her bedroom door again. Mels had been gone a long time. They'd already stopped playing Truth or Dare and were painting each others nails and she was starting to worry. In her current mood, there was no telling what trouble her friend could get into. Finally, unable to wait a moment longer, she said, indicating the now empty bowl of chips,"Hey, I'm gonna go see if I can grab some more food. My mum said something about biscuits...?"

"'K," Ashley said, not looking up from where she was doing Lesley's nails.

"And hurry up," Lucy added. "Especially if they're chocolate..." But Amy had already stood up and was heading out into the hall.

As she'd expected, she didn't find Mels in the toilet. Voices floating upstairs, though, ended her search rather quickly.

"And that, dear, is why he's not allowed to bake biscuits alone anymore," her mother was saying as Amy entered the kitchen.

Mels, perched on a stool at the counter next to her, was laughing around a mouthful of the chocolate biscuit she held in her hand. "Really? _Pepper?_" she asked after swallowing.

Amy rolled her eyes. "That story again? Really?"

"It's funny!" Mel defended, turning her head to look over at Amy. Then, grinning sheepishly at Mrs. Pond, she added, "Every time you tell it."

Now it was her mother's turn to laugh. "Yes, it is, isn't it?"

"We missed you," Amy explained to Mels, crossing the room to stand on the other side of her mother.

Mels cocked an eyebrow at her.

Now it was Amy's turn to grin sheepishly. "Well... _I_ did."

This time Mels grin was genuine. Then, indicating the platter of biscuits on the worktop, she explained, "I found biscuits."

"Yup, fresh from the oven," her mum agreed. "Would you like one?"

Amy shook her head. "No. I'd better be getting them back to the others. You coming?" she asked Mels as she grabbed the platter.

Her friend exchanged brief glances with her mum before sliding down off the stool. "Yeah." And then, as she was about to leave the room, she added, turning to look back,"Oh. And thanks for the biscuits, Mrs. Pond."

Amy's mother returned her friend's smile. "Sure, sweetie. Anytime."


	2. It Can't Be That Bad

_Spoilers through Girl Who Waited._

* * *

><p>"Hi, Mels."<p>

Mels and Rory stopped on the stairs and turned to face his mother. "Hi, Mrs. Williams," Mels said, slipping the case she held behind her back and hoping the older woman wouldn't notice.

"What are you and Rory up to today?"

"Nothing," Rory replied. "Just going to... Uh..."

"Show me his new CD," Mels interjected smoothly. How on earth could he be such a _bad_ liar?

"Well, you two have fun. Would you like some tea a bit later? I've got biscuits."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Williams. That would be great. We'll be back down in a bit," Mels replied, giving Rory's mum her best smile.

"Really," Rory muttered as she followed him up the stairs, "Sometimes, I swear she likes you even more than she likes me."

When they got to Rory's room,she set the case she'd smuggled upstairs on Rory's dresser. Opening it, she pulled out the scissors. "Okay, sit down there," she ordered, pointing to his desk chair.

"Are you _sure_ you know what you're doing?" he asked a bit nervously.

"Of course."

"And you've done this before?"

"Uh... Yeah. Of course. Loads of times. Nothing to worry about."

"Who's worried?" Rory mumbled under his breath.

"Good. Then... sit still..." she warned before starting to work.

A few minutes later, she stepped back to take a look.

"Oh... Uhm..."

"What?"

"Nothing. It looks..."

"Great?"

There were some lies that were just too big. "Well..."

"Let me see," he said. Standing up, he stepped over to his dresser mirror. And froze in horror.

"Well..." she repeated after a moment, "At least you no longer look like a geek..."

"I said cool. _Cool_!" He ran one hand through his hair. "You've made me look like a..."

"We could tell everyone you'd joined a rock band?" she suggested helpfully.

"She – I mean no one at all – will ever believe that. I look _awful_."

"Oh, I dunno, you might be surprised," Mel observed, adding under her breath, "After all, I'm still here."

"What was that?" Rory asked.

"Nothing," she quickly replied. "You'll be fine. Trust me. I _know_."


	3. Not At All Like Pencils

_A Proper Drabble_

* * *

><p>"Which drawer again?" Mels asked.<p>

"Top right."

She'd been looking in the left. Opening the right drawer, Mels quickly found the pack of colored pencils and picked it up. And underneath...

"Wait. Don't...!"

But it was too late. Mels turned and held them up for her to see. "What in the world are you doing with-?"

Blushing furiously, Amy grabbed them from her and stuffed them back into the drawer. "Nothing. Never mind."

And Mels tried. _Really_ she did. Because no way did she want to imagine what Amy might be doing with handcuffs.


	4. Never Mind

He found her in the garden, sitting on the swing set. The toes of her trainers scuffed the dry dirt beneath the seat as she slowly twisted back and forth.

She looked bored. Really bored.

Which, for her, was a fairly dangerous condition. Who knew what could happen? Though he'd enough past experience to be know it wasn't likely to be good.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she echoed, looking up as he approached.

He nodded toward the house's front door. "She inside?"

"Yup."

"In trouble again?"

Mels rolled her yes. "Yes. She didn't straighten her room. Again. And her Mum says she can't come out until she does."

Rory sighed and sat down on the swing next to Mels. "Why does she always do this? Doesn't she know we're on a schedule?"

His friend shrugged. "Cause she's _Amy_?"

He smiled. "Yeah." Then, as Mels started to swing, pumping strongly, an all-too familiar gleam in her eyes, he asked, "Hey... What are you doing?"

She looked down at him over her shoulder as she flew past. "Swinging, stupid. Waiting is boring."

"Uhm... But aren't you going a bit too high?"

"Yup. That's the point."

"Mels..." he warned, his bad feeling blossoming into a certainty. "You're not gonna jump, are you?"

"Of course not."

"Don't. You'll break something."

"Maybe."

"Mels," he warned again. "Seriously. Stop it. You'll kill yourself."

"So?" She called back to him from the top of her swing. "Who cares? You're not my-" She never finished the sentence, though. Instead, her leg dropped down on her next pass, trainers dragging in the dirt. Slowing and then stopping her.

As she came to rest next to him again, he asked, "Not your what?"

She smiled at him. That strange enigmatic smile which always seemed to make her seem years older than she really was. "Never mind. Race you?" she asked, her smile shifting to something closer to that of a normal eleven year-old.

His only answer was to kick off from the ground himself.

When Amy finally came out of the house a few minutes later, they were both swinging far too high for the old set, which squeaked and whined dangerously beneath them, and she had to call them both down. "Seriously. You two," she scolded, hands firmly on her hips as they brought their swings to rest in front of her. "Sometimes, you can be such _children_."


	5. Talking to Yourself

She'd been standing in the car park for nearly an hour, staring at the hall. Working up the nerve to go in. Or not to go in. She really wasn't sure which anymore.

Because if nothing else, after all the excuses she'd given Amy for why she couldn't possibly be her Maid of Honor, if she showed up _now_... Amy would probably kill her. And actually going to their wedding was still taking it a bit too far, even for her.

Only there'd been this feeling building up in her all day. An urge so strong as to be almost a physical need to go and to be there. As if something – something Big – was about to happen. And she _needed_ to be there for it.

Now.

She stepped forward.

"Hey, kid."

She turned quickly, startled at the sound of the voice, and wondered how the woman had managed to get even two car lengths away without her having heard something. Or sensed something. By the other woman's clothing, she was obviously late for the reception. Oddly, though, she held a slightly battered blue leather bound book in one hand and a letter-sized envelope in the other.

Mels wondered briefly what this woman would say if she only knew Mels was at least as old as she was. Probably older. Though Mels could only wish she had the other woman's figure despite her age. Or her mass of gold brown curls. "Who you calling kid?" she asked instead.

A smile broke across the other woman's face but she didn't answer. Instead, she set the envelope down on the car bonnet beside her and, tapping it by way of invitation, said, "Do yourself a favor."

Mels stepped forward, the strange woman backing away as she approached, keeping her distance. Reaching the envelope, Mels grabbed it and ripped it open. Inside, in her name, were a bus ticket to Heathrow and a receipt for an all-expense paid trip to...

She looked up. "How'd you know..?" But the woman was gone, leaving as quickly and as silently as she had come.

Mels looked down at the papers in her hand. Egypt. She'd dreamed of seeing the pyramids but known it was impossible. Things like that weren't for her.

Now, though...

Suddenly, crashing her parents' wedding didn't seem that important after all. They were leaving on their Honeymoon tomorrow, anyway. She wasn't likely to miss - well, anything - while she was gone.

Smiling, she set off across the car park. Away from the hall. She had a bus to catch.

Later, Mels recognized the woman in the mirror and wondered why she'd been there. Would be there.

Whatever.

Until, later still, she finally knew.


	6. Practice Makes Perfect

"Aren't you two done yet?" Rory hissed in a whisper so loud he might as well have shouted it.

"No!" Amy hissed. Then, turning back to her friend, she whispered more quietly, "What's taking so long?"

"I dunno," Mels replied without looking up. "It should..." She bent down, listening closely for a minute as she jiggled the two small bits of metal again, "No. Still not getting it. Read that bit again...?"

Amy glanced down at the paper in her hand and read from the instructions. Mels tried to follow them... but without results.

Finally fed up, Amy pushed her away. "Here, let me have a go."

"I..." Mels started to protest, then clearly thinking better of it, stepped back and grabbed the instructions from her friend. "Fine. You-"

But Rory's sudden loud whisper from around the corner interrupted her. "Someone's coming!"

They'd just managed to straighten up and turn around as Mr. Perkins, the History teacher, stepped into the corridor. He stopped when he saw them. "Hello, girls. A bit late, isn't it? Shouldn't you be headed home by now?"

"Uhm... Yeah. Right. Just headed that way," Amy answered.

Mels gestured to Amy's rucksack. "She forgot her bag. We had to come back for it."

"Ah. Very well. You girls have a good evening then," Mr. Perkins replied as, with a wave, he continued down the hall.

Amy turned to Mels as soon as he had gone out of sight. "That was close!"

"Too right!"

Both girls turned as Rory ran up to join them. "You okay? He didn't catch you, did he?"

"No worries," Mels replied.

"Good. Neither of you can afford to get into trouble. Again."

"You worry too much," Mels said, rolling her eyes.

"Somebody's got to!" Rory replied. Then, gesturing to the locked door behind them, he asked, "Why'd you want to get into the cleaning cupboard anyway? What's in there?"

"Cleaning supplies, stupid?" Amy suggested.

Rory sighed. "Yes. I know _that_. I mean... What else?"

"Who cares?" Amy answered with a shrug. "Boring school stuff?"

"Then why...?"

Mels held up the instructions and lockpicks she'd been hiding behind her back. "How else are we going to practice?"

Rory blinked twice and opened his mouth to say something before closing it quickly. A few seconds later he muttered under his breath, "Girls."

"What?" Amy asked, with just a _bit_ of warning.

"Nothing," Rory sighed. "Now, can we _please_ leave before Mr. Perkins comes back and we really will be in trouble?" He waited for the girls to nod before turning and heading toward the exit.

As he took off down the corridor, Amy rolled her eyes to Mels, "Boys."

"_Rory,_" Mels corrected her, looking after Rory with that funny smile she got whenever she'd say something that really didn't make any sense at all.

"What?" Amy asked, but Mels didn't hear. She was already hurrying forward to catch up to their friend.


	7. Let 's Just Call Him Victim 1

"'K, guys, you've got me. Now it's my turn."

Amy glanced over at Mels. The other girl shrugged. "We did promise," she pointed out.

"Yeah. Okay. Get up, Rory, and you can be the police with me. Mels, you be the bank robber."

Rory held up his hand. "You gotta unlock me, first," he said, shaking his arm. The other side of the handcuff circling his wrist clanked against the old metal swing set.

"Right. You got the key, Mels?" Amy asked.

Mels searched her pocket. "No. You must."

"No. I gave it to you. You sure it's not there?"

Mels searched her pockets again. "Nope."

"You guys lost the key?"

Both girls turned to look at Rory. "Uh... Maybe?" Amy said.

"We could pick it," Mels suggested.

Feeling a need to be truthful, Amy added, "Probably."

"Probably?" Rory asked.

"_Definitely_ probably," Mels corrected.

"Probably?" Rory repeated, his voice rising a bit in panic.

"Yes," Amy answered and, grabbing Mels' arm, started to pull her toward the house. "We'll be right back," she called over her shoulder to Rory. "Just gotta get the picks."

They had gotten as far as the bottom of the stairs when Amy's mother stepped into the hall from the sitting room. "Oh, hello, Mels. I didn't realize Amy had friends over."

"We were in the back garden playing," Amy explained. Then, pointing up the stairs, "I wanted to show Mels something in my room."

"If you girls are interested, I've got the kettle on and could open a package of biscuits...?"

"Chocolate?" Mels asked.

"Of course."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Half an hour later, the phone rang. Amy's mum picked it up. She listened for a minute and then answered, "I'll ask Amy," before turning to the two girls who were still seated at the table talking. "Girls? It's Mrs. Williams. Have either of you seen Rory?" she asked.

Amy and Mels turned to look at each other, eyes wide. Then, as one, they turned back to her. "Rory?" Amy asked.

"Yes. Have you?"

Mels shook her head. "No. Not... _recently._"

Amy and Mels slid down from their chairs and moved to the door. "But that reminds me of something, Mum. We need to go..." Amy said before she turned and, grabbing her friends hand, darted from the room.


	8. Hooky

She woke to a tapping at her window. Slipping out of bed, she went and threw up the sash.

"You're gonna break your neck," she told Mels, who was hanging outside, precariously balanced between the window ledge and the small overhang which shielded the back door from rain. "How many times have I told you...?"

"Seriously? Now? Just let me in before I really do break my neck, okay?"

Amy stepped back from the window to let her friend clamber inside. "What on earth are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

Mels shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd drop by and see what you were up to."

"It's the middle of the night," Amy repeated. "What do you think?"

Choosing to ignore this, Mels threw herself down full length on Amy's bed, shifting to make herself comfortable before saying, "I looked for you after school. Where were you?"

Amy perched on the edge of the bed next to her. Rolling her eyes slightly, she answered, "Couldn't go out. Mum wouldn't let me."

"Bit another one?"

Amy sighed. "It's not my fault they're all stupid. What's wrong with having a friend from outer space, anyway?"

"Nothing. It's cool. Well... _I_ think it's cool."

Amy smiled down at her friend. "Thanks. It is cool, isn't it?" Then, remembering, "Wait. I thought they said you were home sick today."

Mels snorted before saying, in a nearly perfect imitation of her foster Mum's voice, "I'm calling to let you know Mels won't be in today..."

"Mels! You're gonna get caught."

"Probably. Eventually. But until then..." She laughed. "Anyway? What are they gonna do?"

"So, why'd you skip class, then?"

Mels shrugged. "No reason. Just didn't feel like going."

Something in her friends tone caught Amy's attention. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Do I have to have a reason?"

"No." And then, because Mels did, in fact, usually have a reason, and also because she thought she recognized the look which had briefly clouded her friends features, she asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah."

And because that tone Amy really _did_ recognize, she asked, "You sleeping?"

"Of course."

"Mels..."

"Well..."

"I thought you'd gotten over the dreams."

Mels shifted in the bed. "Yeah. I have." And then, when Amy remained silent, waiting for her to continue, she added, "Mostly."

"Mostly?"

"It was just last night. No big deal." Mels shrugged, dismissing Amy's concern before getting up off the bed and moving back toward the window. "Anyway, I should be getting back. There's always a chance someone will actually miss me."

"Hey, Mels?"

Mels turned, her hand on the window sill. "Yeah?"

Amy grinned. "I've got a new one if you wanna stay and hear it?"

Mels stepped away from the window. "Really? What's it about?"

"A giant spaceship and a whale that eats people. And the Queen of England."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Mels returned Amy's grin and rejoined her on the bed. "Of course. How could I miss the Queen of England?"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The morning sun found the two girls curled together, asleep on Amy's bed. The light streaming through the window and into her eyes woke Amy first, and she shook her friend awake.

"Hey, Mels. Wake up."

"Huh?"

"You gotta get home. It's morning."

Shaking her head slightly to clear it, her friend sat up. "Yeah. I'd better."

As Mels stood up and headed to the window, Amy asked, "So, see you in school today?"

"Maybe."

"You don't wanna skip again today, Mels. You missed the moon landing yesterday... which was seriously stupid, cause if you were gonna ditch, you could have at least chosen a day we'd be studying something _boring_... but Mr. Miller said he'd be bringing in _Apollo __13 _today. And you can't miss a movie. Especially a movie about space. 'Cause what's cooler than space?"

"Yeah. Maybe," Mels repeated. And then, before Amy could get in another word, she'd ducked quickly out the window and was gone.

Only something in her friend's tone told Amy she wouldn't be seeing her in class after all. Which was crazy. 'Cause who on earth would want to miss a _movie_?


	9. Intervention

"She said she didn't want to come."

"I know. Don't care," Amy called over her shoulder to him. She was already knocking on their friend's front door.

Mels answered after a minute. "What...?"

Amy pushed past her and into the flat. "Come on," she said. "We're gonna be late for the party."

"I told you. I'm not going. I have other plans."

Amy could imagine what those plans might be. Which was exactly why they were there. "Yeah, you are," she insisted.

No. I'm _not_. I don't want to go to some stupid party down at the pub."

"It's not stupid. It'll be fun. Now come on, let's get you something to wear." Amy grabbed her friend's hand and started down the hall towards her bedroom.

They stopped at the sound of Rory's voice behind them. "Amy. Come on. She said she doesn't want to go."

Both girls spun round. "Yeah, she does. She just doesn't know it yet. No one wants to spend Halloween alone. Right, Mels?" Amy turned to her friend for confirmation, but Mels was staring at Rory and didn't seem to have heard Amy's question. Which, under the circumstances, Amy could completely understand. She laughed. "I know. Isn't that a great costume? Invasion of the hot Italian, right?"

Rory blushed, but Mels didn't seem to notice. After a moment she asked, an oddly curious expression on her face, "Have you worn that before?"

"No, first time on. Why?"

"Nothing. It just seems..." Mels shook her head as if to clear it. Smiling widely, she continued, "Excellent costume, Rory. You're a great centurion." Then, turning to Amy, she asked, "Now, since I guess I'm going to this stupid party after all, you said something about helping me find something to wear? 'Cause Rory's given me an idea. I bet I'd make a _brilliant_ Cleopatra..."


	10. Knight in Shining Trainers

_A/N: This chapter should be rated T for language and theme_

* * *

><p>"And, see, we can put the tables here... and here..." Amy explained, gesturing with her pen at the drawing she'd made on the napkin in front of him. "And here."<p>

Sometimes, he swore, if they had one more discussion about wedding plans... He looked up across the table at her and tried to smile. Hopefully, his thoughts weren't too obvious. That was one discussion he _really_ didn't want to have with her.

The pub door banged open and he and Amy both turned to watch the newcomer stumble into the room, bringing with him a blast of wind and rain from outside. "That's Martin Stump," Amy told him.

He looked back at her. "Yeah?"

"So," she explained. "Mels was having dinner with him tonight."

Rory swiveled in his seat to get a better view of Martin. "Shit." The man was sporting a bloody nose and had a large rip down the back of his jacket. It certainly looked like their friend's handiwork.

"Go and talk to him. Find out what's happened to her," Amy ordered.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Who else? Now go."

He knew there was no arguing with that look. Sliding out of his chair, he crossed to the bar. "Hey, Martin." The other man just glared at him. "Where's Mels?"

Martin muttered something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like, "That teasing bitch can go to hell."

"Excuse me?" Rory asked.

"I said," Martin said, more clearly this time. "Who the hell cares?"

"Let's just say I do. So, where is she?"

Martin laughed. Once. Humorlessly. "What you gonna do if I don't talk, nurse boy? Deck me?"

Rory shook his head. "No. But if you tell me where she is, _right __now_, I can promise you she won't be filing charges in the morning."

Martin glared at him again for a minute. Rory stared back. Finally, the other man broke. "Fine. Whatever. She's out by Dawson Lane. Took off outta my car. No way in _hell_ was I running after her. 'Specially not in that," he added, nodding toward the window and the storm outside.

"Of course not." And, swallowing the rest of what he wanted to say, Rory headed back to Amy.

"Well, go after her, then," Amy said as soon as he'd repeated the conversation to her. "I'll wait here."

"Why can't you – ?" he began, only he knew _that _look too. "Fine. I'll be back." And, grabbing his coat from off the back of his chair, he headed out the door and into the rain.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He found her right were Martin had said he would, walking along the side of the road, head down against the driving rain. "Hey, Mels!" he called, pulling up alongside her.

She looked up just long enough to wave him away. Then, tucking her chin back down to her chest, she continued walking.

He pulled off again a few meters down, further onto the shoulder this time, and threw open the passenger side door. She'd have to walk off into the ditch or onto the lane to get around him this time.

She didn't even try. When she reached his car, she simply slipped into the seat next to him and slammed the door. He started down the road again, and they rode in silence for a few minutes. He risked a quick glance at her as she stared fixedly out the car window. It was enough to let him know that all the wetness on her cheeks wasn't from the rain. "Hey, you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Mels shook her head without turning to look at him. "Nah. Moron couldn't take a punch. I'm fine."

"That's not what I meant...," Rory replied gently.

"Oh." She was silent for another minute. "Yeah. I'm fine." He risked another sideways glance at her and she smiled weakily at him. "Honest, Rory."

"Good. Cause you know, if he'd hurt you..."

"You'd do what? I suspect my right hook's a lot better than yours."

"No. I was gonna say, we could sic Amy on him."

That at least earned him a chuckle. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Did she send you?

He grinned sheepishly. "What do you think?"

Mels rolled her eyes. "Amy worries too much."

"Well... you were walking down the road in the rain," he reminded her.

"How'd you find out?"

"Martin came into the pub. He was banged up pretty bad and it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened."

"I should have killed the bastard." She practically spat the words.

"Probably," he agreed. "Only I suspect it would have been even harder to spring you after a murder than after stealing a bus."

She finally laughed. "Yeah, probably."

"Anyway, I should get you home. You need to get cleaned up. And dry. And I left Amy back at the pub. I should probably get back and save Martin..."

Which earned him another short laugh. It was another minute or two before Mels spoke again, though. When she did, her voice was quiet against the rain battering outside. "Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think maybe you could drop me off at Amy's house instead? I'm not really up to my empty flat."

"Sure. No problem. If you don't think her folks'll mind."

She smiled. "They never have before."

"Okay, then," he said, and turned right at the next crossroads. Leadworth wasn't really that big and Amy's house was just a few houses down.

When he'd pulled up at the curb, Mels turned to him. "Hey... Rory?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I mean it, seriously. Thanks."

He shrugged. "It was just a ride."

She laughed, though he had no idea why. "Yeah. You'd think so. But thanks anyway, Rory." And, without another word, she slid out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her and, rushing through the rain, ran up the walk to Amy's front door. He waited just long enough to see Mrs. Pond come to the door and throw her arms around Mels's shoulders, pulling her inside. Then, releasing the brake, he turned the car around and headed back to Amy.


	11. An Apple A Day

She sat and watched them play. All four of them.

Her back garden, once a haven for adults, was strewn about with tricycles and dolls, bats and balls, and what seemed like a never ending stream of plastic _somethings_ she couldn't even begin to place.

Amy smiled.

He might not have been able to give her back her own child, but he seemed determined to make up for it in grandchildren.

A small figure darted past her.

"Hey, mister," she called after him.

He skidded to a halt and spun round. "Yeah?" he asked around the chunk of apple in his mouth.

She pointed toward the apple clutched in his hand. "Finish that first." He scowled but climbed up into the empty chair she indicated.

They sat in silence for a minute, the crunching of his apple as he bit into it the only sound between them. After a minute she spoke again, indicating the apple. "Did your father do that?"

He pulled the fruit back and looked at it. "Nope. Mummy did." He took another bite.

"My mum did it for me when I was a little girl."

Amy turned to find River standing behind her, smiling down at her. "Smart woman, your mum."

River's smile grew wider. "I always thought so." She lifted her son up and sat down on his chair, pulling him back down onto her lap. She nuzzled her face in his hair for a moment before looking up to smile knowingly across at Amy. "Still a bit clueless about some things, though..."

And it was only right at that moment, watching her grandson biting into an apple with a face on it, that Amy finally _really_ understood.

He hadn't failed at all.


End file.
